No Turning Black
by Lady Nichnevin Le Fey
Summary: Sirius recieved a hastily written note 'Pettigrew broke, run' and he knew that before the night was over, deaths would occur. pls pls RR


I can only ever do one shots (don't ask me why) the other types never seem to work with me, so anyway I own nothing. I think I currently have 5 pence in my pocket and a subway stamp but that's it. (For people who don't get it that was a disclaimer for I'm not stealing anything, for the world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K.Rowling)

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No Tuning Black.**

'Wait! Wait, I have information'

'Concerning?' the hooded figure let the word roll off his tongue in a deadly manner.

'The Order of the Phoenix'

The hooded figure raised his wand uninterested, many victims of Lord Voldemort claimed to have information on Dumbledore's so called army to save themselves from the fate that followed.

'The whereabouts of James and Lily Potter!'

Lord Voldemort's hand quavered ever so slightly, but he resumed his stoic stance, however Pettigrew had seen it.

'Speak'

'My lord, I could not, but that I had sufficient certainty that I would be placed under your protection.'

'You dare play games with Lord Voldemort? _Crucio!_'

Pettigrew stumbled to the floor, shaking violently, screaming for forgiveness, screaming for the pain to stop. And just as fast as it had come, it was gone. No scar, no trace of pain, no proof.

'Speak'

'My Lord… they are living at the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters with their baby Harry'

Lord Voldemort did not reply.

'But… I cannot tell you the whereabouts of the headquarters as I am not the secret keeper and …'

'You lie' the complex simplicity of the two words sliced Pettigrew through the heart. He knew he would suffer. Again.

'Crucio' 

Pettigrew fell to the floor and screamed pathetically for forgiveness. Again as soon as it had come it was gone, and no mark, not a single scratch to prove it was ever there.

'Speak'

'My Lord I speak the truth, I have nothing else to say but the prophecy...'

'Lucius'

Lucius Malfoy stepped out from the circle of death eaters surrounding Pettigrew, and looked down at the pathetic man crawling at his feet. From the inside of his robes, he pulled out his wand. Pettigrew looked at him with fear as Malfoy lit his wand and scorched it onto the side of his face, Pettigrew screeched with pain as the scent of burnt flesh filled the cold night air and Malfoy smirked at the writhing thing at the hem of his robes.

This time the pain was real, it was still there when Malfoy had removed his wand, the flesh was still burnt and the night air still stunk of the stale metallic smell of blood.

'Speak'

'My Lord' Pettigrew sputtered through tearful gasps 'Dumbledore is their Secret…'

'Lucius'

Malfoy stepped forward again, this time with a dagger, turning the blade over in his hand, caressing the metal. He took the whimpering Pettigrew by the robes and pulled the sleeve of his right arm up, and dug the blade in, relishing his screams.

Gasping for air, he uttered 'Godric's Hollow' his false bravado and artificial confidence had gone, he was a fool to attempt it in front of the Dark Lord. His gasping turned into violent coughs, which resulted in blood all over Malfoy's shoes, which resulted in Malfoy kicking Pettigrew who landed at the feet of Lord Voldemort. Pettigrew looked up, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, and he met His eyes. His cold cruel eyes, the red slits, so snake-like, and pain, such like nothing he had experienced that night came into being. It was not a physical pain like the Cruciatus, but it was a pain, erupting from his head, from the very existence of his being. Voldemort was violating the most secure thing he thought he had.

* * *

Into the shadows, a figure fled from the scene. Running as fast as he could to find an owl, and almost as soon as he had thought it, Hermes, his owl came hurtling towards him. With his wand he slit himself and with the blood, wrote a hasty note on a piece of scrap tissue. And as soon as Hermes had taken flight twelve hooded figures apparated around him.

Surrounded by twelve death eaters, he knew there was no chance of survival let alone escape, Regulus Black, youngest in the Noble and Most Ancient Line Of Black, smiled, raised his head sternly and faced his doom head on, knowing that the one thing he could have done in his contribution to the battle against The Dark Lord, he had done, and to the best of his ability.

'Toujours Pur'

Wand raised, a cold voice shrieked 'Avada Kedavra'

A jet of green light hit him squarely on the chest. The smile had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. It seemed to take him an age to fall: as Hermes reached his destination, Regulus' already cold body hit the floor with a soft thud.

* * *

The owl tapped furiously on the window, and reluctantly Sirius opened it. He recognised the owl as his brother's. It was no parchment but a piece of tissue. His brother's tidy handwriting and hastily written note came into focus, as Hermes burst into flames:

_Pettigrew broke. Run._

_Votre frère_

_R.A.B._

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A.N. _Votre Frere_ means 'your brother' (I think). Pls pls pls R+R it's currently 3.22am so I apologise if it's rubbish, I'm in a state of half-sleep/half-alive. Hermes Burst into flames because he's Regulus' Familiar like Fawkes was to Dumbledore (R.I.P) (theory of C.Z.B.) and so died when he did. The thing he did in contribution to the battle was destroying the Horcrux (like duh), and, the reason I took the paragraph of Sirius's death (OotP p711) and put it here was because it's supposed to symbolise the invisible bond between the two brothers, a bond that was physically never established, therefore their deaths reflect each other's, kind of symbolising that they are the same no matter how much they deny it. I mean hey if I had it my way they wouldn't die at all but then again I own nothing. 


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